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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23140993">Routinely Normal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwendee/pseuds/gwendee'>gwendee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Assassination Classroom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Dysfunctional Family, Everybody expresses disbelief at Gakuhou taking time off work, Family Dynamics, Gen, I don't blame them, Post-Canon, Sickfic, Slice of Life, questionable parenting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:20:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,885</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23140993</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwendee/pseuds/gwendee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p><br/>“Are you feeling better?” Gakuhou asks. “Has the medicine kicked in?”</p>
  <p>“It’s been like ten minutes,” Gakushuu says, sinking down into the bed. “Go do whatever, I won’t die. I know you’re too impatient and important to just sit around all day doing nothing.”<br/></p>
</blockquote><br/>Gakuhou's taking the day off to take care of his sick child like any normal parent. Of course, nobody in the office believes him, and Gakushuu's even more of a hassle when he's ill.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Asano Gakuhou &amp; Asano Gakushuu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>353</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Routinely Normal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I got a request and the spark to start this literally ages ago, but I never got the kick to finish until now?? Sorry but Gwen is Bad at Keeping to a Schedule. Mostly. </p><p>Hi everyone, welcome or welcome again! For those who don't know me, I write tons of trash Asano Family content. For those who do know me, you've seen me awkwardly reintroduce myself at the beginning of every new fic I start even though I'm sure the same few bunch of people read my content (and I love you all for it).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Gakuhou deserves... an award. "Not the best but not the worst at parenting". </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou pauses in the middle of his dress routine, halfway to buttoning up his shirt, and he cocks his head to quietly assess the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something's… not quite right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He double-checks the date and time, it's definitely a school day and he's on time, there are no holidays and he doesn't have meetings scheduled for today, his son didn't bring anything to his attention-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-Gakushuu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At 6.55am in the morning Gakuhou would get dressed as he hears his son's shower run in the background. The shower was not running today, so that meant Gakushuu was behind schedule, or he had decided to forgo being clean for a day, which was highly inappropriate. No matter, Gakushuu was going to have to deal with the consequences of his own tardiness, and mystery solved, Gakuhou resumes dressing and then promptly heads down for breakfast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's in the middle of an article and he's thinking of asking his son for his opinion, the younger generation these days had rather surprising insights, but when Gakuhou looks up, the seat across him is empty. He looks down at his watch - it's 7.15am. Gakushuu was behind schedule by a concerning amount, had he seriously overslept?  Gakuhou's lip curls, because whilst he would prefer to discipline Gakushuu by letting him reap his own punishment of a late record, it's simply too petty a mistake to risk tarnishing Gakushuu's transcript for. That didn't mean Gakuhou wasn't going to lecture him - Gakushuu should seriously know better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou sighs longsufferingly  He folds his napkin and sets his work aside to go drag his son out of bed. He's already running through ways to snark at Gakushuu in his mind and he can't wait to see the pissed off pouty look that sleepy-Gakushuu had, but stopping outside his son's closed bedroom door, he hears the awful sound of vomiting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou raps his knuckles three times on the door and enters quickly before he obtains a response. In the en suite, Gakushuu is hunched over the toilet, retching. It sounds disgusting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is still in his pyjamas and is sporting a horrible case of bedhead. Gakuhou watches him finish throwing up, shut the lid, press the flush, and then sink to the floor and curl up into a little miserable ball.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did he notice Gakuhou? He clears his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In response, the ball groans. Gakuhou's frown deepens. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Asano,” Gakuhou says. “Are you feeling alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakushuu doesn't give him a verbal reply. Instead he rolls over and raises his left arm, flashing him a thumbs up. Or a thumbs down, it was ambiguously angled, and the arm falls limply again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou crosses the room in three long strides and peers down at Gakushuu, who is plastered to the tiled floor and looking worse for wear. His face is flushed with fever and he blinks deliriously at the shadow that falls over him, and Gakuhou feels a little bit of sympathy. "So I assume you are not going to school today," he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," Gakushuu mumbles. He shuts his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou scowls. "The bathroom floor is no place for a nap. Get up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>" 'S cool here," Gakushuu says, but he obeys and uses the toilet to steady himself. Gakushuu was much more compliant when sick, Gakuhou thinks, less rebellious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakushuu makes it two steps out of the bathroom when his knees buckle under him. Gakuhou catches his son before he hits the ground and scoops him up, and Gakushuu whines a little in protest, but is quiet in Gakuhou's arms. He feels cold and he is shivering slightly, and Gakuhou feels every bit parental when he tucks him into bed and throws a blanket over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves quickly to retrieve a thermometer from the other room. When he gets back, Gakushuu has rolled over, blanket tossed aside, and has a pillow covering his head. Gakuhou tuts and snatches the pillow away. Gakushuu lets out an unfairly pathetic whine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou sees the problem. He reaches over the bed to draw the curtains to block out the glare of the rising sun, and then sticks the thermometer into Gakushuu’s mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waits a few seconds, pulls it out when a beep sounds. “You have a very high fever,” Gakuhou notes, and checks his watch. It’s 7.27 now, which means that he’ll need to get a move on or he’ll be tardy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou looks down at Gakushuu. His son is breathing shallowly, eyelids fluttering in fitful attempts of sleep, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou steps out of the room and goes back to the kitchen. His breakfast is half-eaten and Gakushuu’s is untouched, what a waste of food. He slides the plates into the refrigerator with one hand and pulls out his phone to dial the number for his assistant with the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr Asano,” Himiko says pleasantly, “is everything alright?” It was uncharacteristic of Gakuhou to call when he should be seeing her in less than an hour, after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It seems like I wouldn’t be coming in for work today,” Gakuhou says. He starts boiling some water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?! What happened?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My son is sick,” he says in explanation. He’s hoping she would extrapolate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Himiko lets out a short squeal across the line and Gakuhou winces, holding the phone an inch further from his ear. “Sorry, how unprofessional of me. I mean, that’s cute, Mr Asano, not because your son is sick but because you’re staying back to take care of him! Oh, do give Gakushuu my well wishes, and from everyone in the office too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou hums. He exchanges a few more pleasantries with her and grimaces when he hangs up, because that means Himiko would tell the rest of his colleagues that he was taking a day off to look after his sick son. Which… was a normal thing to do, Gakuhou supposes. How… normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He calls Kunugigaoka’s office number next. He’s still on their contact list because Sayami picks up with an exuberant and slightly cautious “hello, Mr Asano!” before he even introduces himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello Sayami,” he says. “I’m calling to inform you that Gakushuu won’t be in to school today. I’m afraid he has come down with a fever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh dear,” Sayami says. “That’s awful!” She goes on for a little bit, and Gakuhou lets her worried chatter carry on in the background as he busies himself with preparing a warm thermos of water. He hears someone enter the office in the background and for them to loudly exclaim “oh dear, Gakushuu is sick?!” That sounded like Nobiko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Sayami says, distressed, “oh dear-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou cuts her off. “We’ll have to continue our conversation another time, I’m going to check on him,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s an uncertain pause, then, “...you’re going to check on him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou blinks. What’s with her sudden shift in tone? “Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...oh, oh, sorry if I’m being rude, it’s just…” Sayami pauses, “are you looking after Gakushuu the whole day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I took a day off,” Gakuhou says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...That’s very nice,” Sayami says, “yes, yes it is! Hope he gets well soon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou stares at his phone in bewilderment as the call ends. Was him taking care of Gakushuu such an unbelievable concept to grasp? He’s aware he used to keep a professional distance with Gakushuu back when he was still in Kunugigaoka, but he didn’t think the staff would have pegged him as neglectful. Thermos in hand, he heads back up to his son’s room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakushuu has flipped over in his bed, head resting at the footboard. The blanket is on the floor now, and he’s hugging the pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou taps him on the shoulder. “Sit up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakushuu makes a soft noise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit up,” Gakuhou repeats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakushuu leans back against the footboard so slowly that Gakuhou almost wants to snap at him, but Gakushuu is sick, he reminds himself. He could give the kid a little bit of leeway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakushuu looks tired. Gakuhou pushes the thermos into his hands and then some pills which he’d swiped from the medicine cabinet, Gakushuu downs it and finishes the water in a go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll throw up again,” Gakuhou says, unimpressed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakushuu mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “I won’t”, but it’s muffled by the pillow that has found its way back over Gakushuu’s face. Gakuhou reminds himself to remind Gakushuu to wash them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watches his son snuffle into the pillow and then slide down the footboard. He sighs. </span>
  <span>“Tell me if you’re going to die, I’ll be in the study."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this, Gakushuu peeks out from the pillow, a bright violet eye glaring at him. “Don’t you have work?” He says, voice nasally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou doesn’t grace that with a reply. He shuts the door on his way out and pauses, but nothing sounds out of the ordinary for a few good seconds. Reassured that Gakushuu can handle himself for a short nap, he turns on his heel-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-just as he hears a thump. Gakuhou pauses again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another thump, a drag across a carpet, and then more sounds of vomiting. Gakuhou sighs - he told the kid he was going to throw up - and opens the door again. Gakushuu is on his knees, hugging his wastepaper basket and emptying his medicine into it. Gakuhou watches him with a thinly veiled distaste. He distinctly remembers babies and toddlers being messy, and despite the common media portrayals of teenagers, Gakuhou hadn’t needed to clean up after his son in a long while. He liked Gakushuu being independent, it gave him a peace of mind to leave him alone and be reassured that he could care for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, however, it seems that Gakushuu would be a dependent for at least the next few hours or so. Gakuhou waits for Gakushuu to stop throwing up before going to fetch a replacement plastic bag for the wastepaper basket, as well as more medicine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By which time Gakushuu has curled up on the floor again, lying dangerously close to the wastepaper basket, and he cracks open an eye to glare tiredly at Gakuhou. His cheeks are blotchy red, and Gakuhou gingerly moves the basket with his foot so there’s no danger of Gakushuu knocking it over. He’s curled up like a pretzel in a position that in no way looks comfortable, which Gakushuu attributes to his childhood gymnastics training, but still looks like it puts considerable strain on the body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The reason you have so many health issues,” Gakuhou mutters, “is your terrible posture.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You always be on that damn phone,” Gakushuu mumbles, a little deliriously, and giggles to himself. Gakuhou doesn’t know what that means.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get up, you’re not sleeping on the floor,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Floor’s nice,” Gakushuu says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a bed,” Gakuhou says. He nudges him with his foot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakushuu bats it away half-heartedly, and Gakuhou scowls. “Be that way,” he says, straightening up and fully intending to let Gakushuu fall asleep on the floor because of his own stubbornness, when something - </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>makes him pause. Maybe it’s the soft noise Gakushuu makes or the sudden chime of a notification from the phone on the dresser, or the chirp from the bird on the tree outside the window or that little tug as Gakushuu manages to hook his pinky finger around the cuff on Gakushuu’s pant leg - whatever it was, Gakuhou doesn’t swivel around and leave like he wanted to, and instead stands there and stares at Gakushuu flick the stray thread on his pants, and he absently reminds himself to cut it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then for some unfathomable reason, Gakuhou picks up his son for the second time in ten years and tucks him back into bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are so much trouble,” he tells Gakushuu, who ignores him. What a willful child he raised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glances over at Gakushuu’s phone. The notifications on his lockscreen show that Sakakibara Ren, Araki Teppei, Akabane Karma and a few others have texted Gakushuu. He remains in good favor with his schoolmates, then, not that Gakuhou was concerned, but that was nice to know. He briefly contemplates unlocking the phone to check on the messages, but then supposes an angry son is not worth the brief satiation of his curiosity for texts no doubt checking up on his well being. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although he does briefly wonder about Akabane Karma, who last Gakuhou remembered was at odds with his son. Was the text an expression of concern or a bait for an argument?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have messages from your entourage,” Gakuhou informs the child clinging onto his pant leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Gakushuu says. He grabs the device from Gakuhou, or rather he swings his arm upwards in a poor attempt at retrieving the device and Gakuhou takes pity and drops it into his hand. “Don’t look at my phone,” he grumbles rather predictably, but seems mollified that it remains unlocked. He lets Gakuhou look at the texts anyways, or rather he doesn’t take any effort to conceal them, which Gakuhou takes as permission to look over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As expected, the texts from Sakakibara and Araki - and the rest of his little friend group self-dubbed the Virtuosos - have sent cordial messages checking up on him which Gakushuu quickly replies with affirmations of his health or lack thereof, but Sakakibara must be on a closer plane of friendship because he earns an “idiot” tacked at the end of his reply. The message from ever-tactful Akabane simply reads “Did you fucking die?!” and Gakushuu replies with a humorous “I lived, bitch”. Gakuhou doesn’t understand the linguistic patterns of youth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Gakushuu types out a template message reassuring of his non-fatal condition which he forwards to 20 other people, making sure to change the name each time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful bedside manner,” Gakuhou says dryly, to which Gakushuu flips him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you feeling better?” Gakuhou asks. “Has the medicine kicked in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been like ten minutes,” Gakushuu says, sinking down into the bed again like texting took up the bulk of his energy. “Go do whatever, I won’t die. I know you’re too impatient and important to just sit around all day doing nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gakuhou narrows his eyes at the unsubtle taunt, but Gakushuu is ultimately right - he is too important to sit around and do nothing, and there is work to be done. He gets up to leave, feeling Gakushuu instantly pull back from his warmth - and he hadn’t realized they were seated so close together on the bed - and lie back down, looking tired and frankly, rather disappointed. Illness must be inhibiting his ability to look impassioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whining is beneath you,” Gakuhou says on instinct, and almost immediately regrets it. Gakushuu scowls at him and turns on his side, effectively cutting the conversation. Gakuhou takes that as a dismissal and on normal occasions he wouldn’t deign to be dismissed by his son, but he knows a reprimand would fall on deaf ears this time, and Gakushuu is sick after all, perhaps he should exercise some leniency.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except, he thinks for a moment, his footsteps faltering in the hallway, he doesn’t remember the last time Gakushuu had openly requested for attention. Sure, it was a little roundabout in his methods, but the intent is still there, and Gakushuu had wanted Gakuhou to stay with him. It was out of the ordinary for them, Gakuhou thinks, except it was a perfectly normal thing for a child to ask of a parent, was it not? They were never normal, but today was an odd day of normals. He’d already taken time off work and called into the school to inform them of a sick day, and he’d gone to so much trouble. A little bit more… shouldn’t hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes a split second decision in his study, collecting his things and pivoting to head straight back to his son's room. Despite his earlier sluggish movements Gakushuu’s startle is quick, and he must be really out of it if he displays surprise unmasked in Gakuhou’s presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t sit around all day doing nothing,” Gakuhou sniffs, feeling the briefest of discomfort at the intensity of the stare Gakushuu affixes him with, and pulling out the desk chair towards the bedside, but placing his things there before getting into the bed seated upright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-ad,” Gakushuu starts, but then shuts his mouth abruptly and turns even redder than his fever flush, betraying the signs of a blush. He settles down again, placing himself a little awkwardly and bringing his pillow to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wash that after,” Gakuhou says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kay,” Gakushuu says. A few seconds in he starts fiddling with a stray thread at Gakuhou’s belt loop and tugs it free with a triumphant snap, and for a moment Gakuhou almost laughs because he’s sitting at home and playing house with his teenaged, almost adult son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then he figures that this was normal, as abnormal as it seemed, and he’d deviated from the usual script so much today - so out of routine - that a little bit more shouldn’t hurt. So he pushes his fingers into Gakushuu’s hair and lets it stay there, and in response the little brat lies on his hand and makes his entire arm go numb for the better part of two hours. He better fucking appreciate it when he gets better.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(Gakuhou's no longer principal of Kunugigaoka here, so I gave him a regular, normal person job.)</p><p>Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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